The Tip

     A pony was laying on a soft, white bed. Upon that bed, there were several octagonal pillows scattered across it. There was a nightstand directly at the bed's left side. A silver alarm clock with the time 6:02 A.M. was rested on its surface. The walls were beige in color, with a white trim on the top and bottom. The floor was auburn brown.

     Spitfire's eyes snapped open as a creak echoed through her house. A few metallic objects clashed together. The sound was coming from her kitchen. She silently scrambled out of her bed. Her back right hoof was wrapped in the blankets now taught fabric. She fell on her face. Spitfire carefully unwrapped herself and rose to her full height. She ran out into her hallway and hid behind a part of the wall that butted out just enough to hide her. Her hooves nimbly took her to the other side of the hallway, to the corner that lead to her bathroom. She peeked over the corner and slowly scuttled down the short hallway. She picked up her pharmaceuticals case in her hooves and hovered the rest of the way.

     The sound of cabinets opening and closing filled Spitfire's ears. Taking a deep breath, she hurled herself into the kitchen with a battle cry.

     "Yaaah!"

     Soarin stood in directly in front of her. In his hooves, he looked at his cup of coffee. Even when the case was an inch from his muzzle, he didn't flinch. He seemed more confused if anything.

     Spitfire stopped the case before it slammed into his face. She snarled and shook her head slowly.

     "I really hate imagine what the rest of your plan was." He set his coffee on the table to his right.

     "How did you get in here?"

     Soarin picked a rock up off the countertop. He held into in on hoof and smacked the bottom of it. It clicked and opened, revealing a small, golden colored key.

     "It's not very effective on a second floor landing."

     "I have an alarm!"

     "You sure do." Soarin turned around and opened the double door refrigerator. He then turned around. "And the code is your birthday. You would be better off if you put everything that had any kind of value on the front lawn."

     Spitfire set the silver pharmaceuticals case down in the floor.

     "What do you want Soarin?"

     "I need to ask you something about the a case."

     "No."

     "That wasn't a question."

     "It's still no."

     Soarin ignored her no's and continued.

     "I was right."

     "I'm done Soarin." She still kept a straight face. Soarin glared at her. "I don't want to commit felonies and perjury and pretend to be--"

     "You're dying to know what happened to him. I know that because I have known you my entire life." Soarin kicked off the floor and hovered. He crossed his forelegs.

     "Nope. I really don't think that you can solve a case that the cops can't by waltzing through a house."

     "Fine, you know what? Just-- fine."

     "Fine!" Spitfire grabbed her case and walked back into the hallway.

     Soarin took his cup of coffee and gulped it down. He thought for a few seconds as Spitfire returned. He decided to put on his best sly face.

     Spitfire returned with nothing in her hooves. She leaned against the wall.

     "Fine, who kidnapped him?"

     "Nopony."

     "Nopony! Excellent! Call the chief and tell her that the case is solved." Spitfire mocked. "Apparently, we just made up the whole thing."

     "Spitty, nopony kidnapped the guy because... he did it himself."

     Spitfire raised an eyebrow. Soarin ushered her to the mahogany table.

     "C'mon you need to see it yourself." Soarin grabbed the coffee pot and a fresh cup of Joe and set it one the table. He pushed the cup over to her while he took the pot.

     "Here's the thing," He started off quickly. "Lightning didn't offer to clean up his act voluntarily. Oh, no. Daddy threatened to cut him off permanently." Spitfire held her cup up and drank some. She raised an eyebrow as Soarin continued. "This was about nineteen or so months ago."

     "Nineteen months?"

     "But wait, there's a whole lot more. He had help."

     "Who?"

     Soarin pulled out the file he had earlier and dumped its contents on the table. Several pictures fluttered about when he did. He flipped the ones that were upside down so they could be seen properly. His hooves messily spread them in a line. Soarin pointed to a colt on a picnic table with some other ponies.

     "This dude on the end. He was the only one in his little crew that didn't go on to fame and fortune. Or rehab I guess."

     Spitfire slid the picture over to her. She gazed at the photo.

     "The cops must have brought him in for questioning, right?"

     "Nope. This guy, Dark Dusk, but for the sake of time, Dusk, hasn't been seen with Lightning for a long time. To be exact..."

     "Nineteen months?" Spitfire offered. She drank the rest of her coffee.

     "Almost to the day. Spitty, he has been planning this since then. That was over a year ago."

     Spitfire looked back to the picture and then slid river some documents that were also on the table. She scanned over a few paragraphs, and then she deciphered what Soarin's sloppy writing said.

     "Soarin, this is good stuff." Spitfire commented as she looked back over the documents. She went to take a gulp of her coffee, but found that she had already gulped it all down. She reached over to the coffee pot, but Soarin smacked her hoof away.

     "That's mine." He picked up the pot and took a long sip from it.

     Spitfire decided to ignore that.

     "Sooo, where did you get this?" She said with an accusing tone.

     "Wildfire Waters' room."

     "For the love of-- you didn't go into her room."

     "Spitty, I needed a ride. She hadn't eaten anything yet. One thing lead to another, and then we were drinking a milkshake together. I also got a hayburger, but that isn't important."

     "Whoa, hold it. Your dating her?"

     "No. I'm not 'dating' her."

     "Yes you are!"

     "It's... not exclusive."

     Spitfire rolled her eyes and stood up from the chair. She walked away from Soarin.

     "Spitty, come on! Fix that rat's nest you call a mane. This is gonna be fun." Soarin hovered up over the table. He rapidly clapped his hooves together.

     "Let's go! I'm driving. Where are your keys?" Soarin searched within several cabinets and drawers. "Are they in your mane?" He shouted to her general vicinity. He looked over at the rack beside his head. "Never mind, I found em'. Ooh!" Soarin found something that caught his attention. He picked it up with both hooves. The fruit, a pineapple, sat there.

     "Should I slice this up for the road?" He shouted to her again.

     Soarin speed down a desolate street in the Blueberry. He was going twenty miles over the speed limit. The thick trees rush past the car, always replaced by new ones. The humidity outside caused the darker undergrowth plants to glisten with water.

     A police car's sirens went off behind the blue vehicle. He pulled over onto the grass bordering the old road. An overweight stallion stepped out. He was purple with black hair.

     "Well, we're of to a fantastic start." Spitfire said sarcastically.

     "Just let me do the talking." Soarin pulled several cards out from the glove box as the officer approached diver side window. Soarin continued shuffling the small business cards as he began to speak.

     "Good morning, gentlecolts."

     "Hello officer." Soarin found what he needed and gave it to the overweight police officer.

     "What's this?"

     "Whoops. It's my dad's old police business card. It must have gotten stuck to the bottom of my drivers license. I've carried that in my wallet for ages. You can't be too careful when you come from a family of cops." He said wistfully.

     "Ice Storm is your dad?" The officer asked as he analyzed the card.

     "Yep, he sure is."

     "How's old Storm doin'?"

     "Oh, he's, uh, great. Retired. Living in Winneapolis." Soarin stuttered.

     "I saw Storm two weeks ago at Bed, Bath, and Beyond."

Wait, he is back?!

     "Yeah. yeah, that sound about right. He popped into town for a few days--"

     "He said that he had been back for over a year now." The officer interrupted. Soarin simply nodded with him.

     "Yeah, and he's back now. Runnin' around town. Doing his thing."

     The officer looked at both sides of the card. One side was his drivers license, the other was Ice Storm's business card. After an agonizing fifteen seconds of this, he came to a decision. He handed both of the cards back to Soarin.

     "Tell your dad that the Allycat says hello." The 'Allycat' returned to his cruiser.

     "Your dad is back at the old house?" Spitfire finally spoke up.

     "Apparently." Soarin and Spitfire shared a glance. The turned back to the road.

     "Well, that happened."

     "Dude, I'm so excited. This will be my first use of spy technology." He motioned to some black binoculars. Soarin and Spitfire trudged through the dense undergrowth. Trees of all shapes and sides surrounded them. Sweat clung to both of their brows. Soarin found a clear bit where he could scamper further into the forest.

     "It would be a lot cooler if it didn't say Pink Panties on the side."

     "Eh, it came with the description."

     "What stallion subscribes to Victoria's Secret?"

     "A guy who likes sexy ladies, that who." Soarin replied with a smirk.

     Soarin stumbled over to the edge of a small pond. He slid over to a nearby bush to shied himself from any potential passerbys. He held the small binoculars to his eyes.

     "Oh, these work pretty well."

     "Are you going to tell be why you dragged me into this forest?" Spitfire hovered .a few feet behind Soarin with her forelegs crossed. She leered at him.

     "This is the Dusk family cabin where little Lightning and Dusk used to play together." Soarin said, still holding up the binoculars.

     "Wouldn't the police have checked this out?" Spitfire inquired.

     Soarin shook his head. "Dusk is so far out of the periphery of Lightning life, that he isn't on the witness list. Really, he isn't on anypony's list." Soarin stood up straight and focused on the brown cabin. "This is a great plan."

     "Excuse me?"

     "Lightning Waters deserves to be commended."

     "Psh, maybe you should date him to." Spitfire turned back to the little cabin.

     "Maybe I will." Soarin joked.

     Spitfire snatched the binoculars from Soarin with a hasty, "gimme this" and looked out to the red El Camino. A bright yellow Golden Retriever ran out from behind it and began sniffing the ground along the side if the pond.

     "No way..."

     "What? What is it?"

     "It's Lightning's dog." Spitfire turned to Soarin and gave him the binoculars.

     "Get-- Dude! Dude!" Soarin shouted as he began to hop in place.

     "I can't believe this. This is unbelievable!"

     They both turned to each other and hoof bumped.

     "Whaaaaaaat?" They both sang simultaneously as they both hopped in place.

     "Okay, okay, okay. Wait, okay wait. Let's call the cops." Spitfire squealed. "No, no, no. Let's call the Chief. Yeah, call the Chief." She nodded to herself.

     "Nope, Nope, nope. When can't do that Spitty."

     "What?!"

     "We go home. Then we will go to the headquarters and I will miraculously have a vision about where they are." He explained. His emerald eyes kept peering over at the cabin.

     "A vision?"

     "Yeah! A vision! Like the sign with the two bullet holes in it and the red and yellow kayaks. Even the shoe hanging off that scarecrow's head. We could do the highway. With all I'd the numbers. Like, uh, uh, I'm seeing," Soarin put his wing tips up to his temples. "I'm seeing... 7-3-9."

     "We are on Highway 937." Spitfire held an uncertain expression.

     "Exactly! In the spirit world, this get jumbled up and out of order. But it will all become clear when we pile into a squad car. Note to self, sit next to that junior detective..."

     "Soarin, please."

     "Then alas, we lead them here. Up and over the mossy logs, over the decaying ceiling fan, and then right here. On this very spot, we will slap on our surprise faces as I guide them to the cabin for the 'first time.'" Soarin finished it all off with wing quotes.

     "Here, here, this is mine." Soarin feigned a gasp. "What do you got?"

     Spitfire held an irritated expression. She turned away and went back throughout the forest.

     "Spitty, that was horrible!" Soarin called out to her. "It doesn't convey surprise at all. Spitty!"

     "Where the hell is the car?!"

     After wasting twenty minutes putting down markers as they found their way back to their car, they arrived just down the road from the station.

     "Alright, just let me do all of the talking."

     "Was there another option for me to do otherwise?"

     "I need to have a lot of witnesses when I have my vision."

     They turned a corner. The busy street was filled with cars containing ponies with their own personal destination. A few quaint restaurants dotted the sides of the road. A floral shop had vines creeping up the front wall by the window. Their purple flowers were being plucked by a gaggle of little fillies. One stood on another's back to read a big pink one near the top.

     A few street vendors turned to their stands. A line lead up to them, ecclesial from the hayfry stand. Ponies trotted down the street, chatting among themselves. Two in particular caught their eye.

     "There they are. Let's go." Spitfire turned to Soarin, who nodded. "Detectives!"

     Soarin and Spitfire took of from their previous spot and galloped towards them.

     "Detectives!"

     Rapidfire and the midnight mare turned to face them. One bore a look of annoyance, the other curiosity.

     "We have a breakthrough."

     "It is very important." Soarin added.

      Rapidfire growled. "I also have something important. It's called lunch. Make an appointment."

     "But this is--"

     Rapidfire yanked his shades of his head. He twisted around and glared at the duo. "You don't have my interest. You don't have my ear. Find a bear cop and tell them your story. Maybe, just maybe, I'll read the report. Good day." He turned back around and set his shades back down on his nose. "After you." He said to the midnight mare. As they both walked in the restaurant, Soarin shared a glance with Spitfire.

     "Detective!" He called out to them. They both turned to him.

     Soarin put his right wing tip to his head and twitched it around. He grabbed his own shaded off the top of his head and pulled them off. "Don't eat the celery." Spitfire looked at him with disbelief. The two detectives rolled their eyes and entered the establishment.

     "Don't eat the celery?" Spitfire gave him her 'really' face.

     The midnight mare and Rapidfire both settled down at a small table.

     "He's got your number." The mare began.

     "He has nothing." Rapidfire insisted. A waitress approached to table. Before she could hand him a menu, he told her what he wanted.

     "I want the celery enchilada. Extra celery." The waitress replied with a simple nod.

     "I would like the cheese quesadilla." The waitress nodded again and trotted off into the kitchen.

     "Coward." Rapidfire spoke once she was put of earshot.

     "You just mad that he pegged us as a couple."

     Rapidfire leaned back into his seat. "He was tipped off." He hastily replied. He turned serious. "Did you tell anypony?" He demanded.

     "Why would I tell anypony? Let everyone think I am working myself up the ladder the hard way? You're barely separated."

     "It's been six months." Rapidfire replied indignantly.

      She re-situated herself in her chair. The waitress came over with two glasses of water in her magical aura. She set them down to their respective owners.

     "Your food will be right out."

     "So you made the plan to where we have to annoy them into believing you?" Spitfire didn't like the sound of this.

     "Midnight Flare is working the grill."

     "So?"

     "So? Midnight Flare has the worst hay fever I have ever seen."

     Rapidfire drank from his glass of water with a straw. He glanced into the kitchen where an azure colt with orange eyes sneezed repeatedly. In one aura, he held a piece of celery, in the other, he held a rag to sneeze in. After he finished, he used the rag he just sneezed in to wipe off the celery stalk.

     Rapidfire turned around. His face showed complete horror. After swallowing his pride and what was left of his breakfast, he stood up. "I will be right back."

     "Soarin and Spitfire watched him stand from his seat and leave out of the restaurant through the large, bay window.

     "Here we go. Act natural." Soarin leaned against a parking meter, nearly striking a pose as he looked up out at the clouds. Spitfire looked at him, completely nonplussed.

     Rapidfire walked a few steps and shouted at them from across the street. "Okay! What is it?!"

    CA vermilion car sped down the desolate road that Soarin and Spitfire went down and hour and a half ago. The midnight mare tapped a pen against the window. Soarin kept practicing surprise faces in the backseat with Spitfire being as confused as ever. Finally, she had enough and smacked him. He turned to her and me put a wing tip to his mouth and nodded vigorously.

     "STOP!"

     Rapidfire's eyes widened and he slammed in the breaks. Soarin's head hit the headrest on Rapidfire's seat. He went wall eyed, but continued nonetheless.

     "That road sign, it keeps going... this is it. Go slowly."

     Rapidfire's left eye twitched.

    "If I cut him open and leave him out here, you can't testify against ne." He continued leering at the road ahead.

     "Just focus on the satisfaction goodwill get when this leads nowhere." The midnight mare shared with him and continued tapping in the window.

     Soarin started making barking noises. He growled and whipped his head back and forth, as if he was playing with a rubber toy.

     "A dog! There is a dog! What kind of dog did he have?" He addresses the question to the fiery mare beside him. She didn't answer him.

     "What about the dog?" The midnight mare asked.

     "He had a ..  very particular diet?" Soarin said. His eyes were now closed.

     "Yes!" She turned to her partner. "I told you that those empty bags were strange."

     "Bob, Bolly, Billing, Brilling! Brilling's Brand!"

      "Yeah, you saw it to?" The midnight mare swivels her head to meet his now open eyes.

     "I sure did. In a dream."

     "I think it is very peculiar that the dog hasn't been found yet."

     "That is very intuitive detective, but--"

     "Hey Karnak, where the hell am I supposed to be going?" Rapidfire looked at them through the mirror hanging of the windshield.

     "Uh, um, 7... 3... 8."

     Spitfire smacked his leg.

     "937!" She whispered to him.

     "Oh! 739, 937! Highway 937! That's what I said. Earlier. To Spitfire." Soarin cut through the middle of his sentences.

     They filed out of the car. Spitfire stepped out and covered her chest to the ground, but kept her rear in the air to pop her aching back. Rapidfire walked to the front of the vehicle.

     "Great, what do we do now?"

     "Does anypony have any binoculars?" Soarin asked.

     "No, no. You see, nopony just randomly carries binoculars with them everyw--"

     Soarin stuck his hoof into Spitfire's mane. "Oh look, we can use these." He said as he untangled a few orange hairs from its crevices. He held the up to his face and set the on his nose. The rubber strap on the back kept them from falling off his face. He trotted up a few yards and focused on the area across the pond. He was almost in the same space as earlier.

     "There it is! Just like I saw it." He used as much pseudo surprise as he could muster. He took a few steps over a small hill and hovered down the rest of the way, nearly getting his wings tangled in t the vines that were hanging from the trees. The detectives interest piked, and they followed close behind him.

     Soarin reached the exact spot that they were at before they retrieved the detectives. Rapidfire pulled the binoculars off of Soarin's head and held then to his eyes.

     Soarin looked at the midnight mare. He liked the soft glint of a golden object hanging from her ear.

     "Those are nice earrings. Who got you those?" She quickly look away when realized exactly what he was referring to by "who."

     "What am I supposed to be looking for exactly?" Rapidfire scanned the beach with the optical device still over his eyes.

     "I'm-- I'm not sure." He  waved his wing tips in circles. "I'm seeing.... a bone?"

      "What, a pony bone?" The orange colt asked as he adjusted the binoculars. He smirked when he saw the words plastered across the side.

     "No, no. I also see... rawhide? And a ball." He continued swirling his wings in circles, but this time, it was around the sides of his head. "Filled with... peanut butter!"

     "Creamy or chunky?" The midnight mare faced him once more.

     While Soarin thought of an answer, Rapidfire spotted the dog running around the patch of grass by the house.

     "Holy crap." The midnight mare looked at him in alarm. "Call for backup." She quickly scampered back to the car.

     "What?" Soarin asked, with no answer.

     "What do you see detective!"

     Black vans rushed onto the front lawn or the cabin. Their back doors swing open, smacking loudly against the metal surrounding the cab of it. Numerous ponies wearing dark camouflage consisting if black and gray jumped or flew out of it. They carried large guns.

     They lined up at the edge of the vehicle. When the coast was clear, the pony in front lead them up to the cabin. One sat at a distance as a sniper, just if it was needed. The fog cleared her from view.

     Several detectives and the chief marched down the road towards the house. Soarin and Spitfire were behind them, engaged in their own conversation.

     "I can't believe that they won't let us in there! This is lame!" Soarin threw out his wings and looked up to the sky. He sighed and turned to the mare beside him.

     "And you were so polite when you asked the SWAT team to issue you the Luger."

     "Just make sure that you act very in awe of me when the come to say that I was right. Maybe even a little afraid that my powers could be used for evil."

     "Watch out!"

     The Golden Retriever ran up to Soarin. He leaned down as it started licking his hooves.

     "For what? His tongue?" He said as he petted the dog.

     "For all you know, it could be viscous."

     "Yes, it's so diabolical with its calculated decoy tail wagging." The do jumped up and lightly wrestled against Soarin.

     "There's blood on his whiskers!" Spitfire's pupils contracted until they looked like golf balls. She took a step back.

     "That's not blood. That's Snausages!" Soarin scratched it behind the ears.

     "Are you sure?"

     "Yes, I am sure. That or he mauled a mountain lion."

      Spitfire shook her head. An indigo stallion trotted up from the cabin. He looked very serious.

     "Mr. Skies, come with me." He began walking off through the fog. Soarin left the dog behind and walked after the stallion. Spitfire came up to his right.

     "Now, if there is any press, make sure that you mention the agency." Soarin lectured.

     "We don't have an agency."

     "We do now. I applied for a DBA online. We are going to need a name. Mind masters was already taken!" Soarin bore a look of confusion. He let it slip as he continued. "Also tell them that we do private cases. I bet the department will only be useful for a few months."

     "Why don't you tell them?" Spitfire dug around in her mane and pulled out a wrapped sucker. She popped it in her mouth.

     "I'm secretive, mysterious, enigmatic."

     "Delusional." She added.

     They neared the front steps of the cabin. Soarin turned around and backpedaled as he reminded Spitfire to act surprised.

     Spitfire didn't need to act surprised though. As Soarin exclaimed that it was, "Just like I saw it before," she saw what was in the kitchen. Two dead bodies. One was Lightning, the other was Dusk.

     "Excuse me. Ladies, Gentlecolts." Spitfire calmly walked out of the cabin and then ran away while screaming in a very high pitch.